


Skull's Kinktober Spectacular

by OverwatchingYouSleep



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Blackmail, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Bloodplay, Bodyguard, Bodyguard Romance, Brainwashing, Branding, Breeding, Cigarettes, Crossdressing, Demon Hanzo Shimada, Demons, Doctor/Patient, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fantasizing, Fingerfucking, Fingering, Gags, Gunplay, Human Furniture, Hypnotism, Inflation, Kink Meme, Kinktober, Knotting, M/M, Macro/Micro, Marijuana, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Microphilia, Minor Violence, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Petplay, Prompt Fill, Public Display of Affection, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Coercion, Somnophilia, Stuffing, Threesome - F/M/M, Uniform Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Violence, Virginity, Werewolf Jesse McCree, Werewolf Sex, foodplay, superior officer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:39:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 14,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverwatchingYouSleep/pseuds/OverwatchingYouSleep
Summary: A collection of short, kinky drabbles for this most spookiest of Octobers.Each chapter is separate, labelled appropriately, and all stories with triggering content will have warnings in the beginning to allow for safe browsing.





	1. Virginity (Reinhardt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Virginity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Reinhardt snoops through Mercy's files and discovers his s/o is a virgin."
> 
> Afab s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, slight exhibitionism.

He had backed you into a corner so easily. There was no overpowering a man like Reinhardt.

"Well?" he questioned, his hands resting on your shoulders with such a passive force you felt glued to the floor. You didn't even think he was aware of it. "Are you?"

Whether or not you were a virgin was none of his business! You had never had any sort of issue with Reinhardt before, his friendliness coming off as just that and nothing else. You never took him for the creeper type. "That isn’t your concern!"

He dropped to his knees in front of you, managing to be roughly eye level with you. His hands dropped from your shoulders to your hips, and only now did you really try to fight back. Pushing your boots on his chest, trying to leverage him away from you. You might as well have been getting crushed between two metal plates.

"Fine," he grumbled, pushing you back against the wall and lifting you until your toes no longer scraped against the ground. "I'll see for myself."

You immediately regretted choosing a skirt today. Reinhardt's head darted beneath the fabric with pervasive curiosity, beard tickling your inner thighs. Tears ran down your cheeks when his tongue pressed against your underwear, cotton and simple. You had never expected anyone to see it.

"Reinhardt..." you wanted to beg with him, plead with him to stop this, but every movement he made told you that this was going to happen no matter what you did. Even if you reminded him you were in a public hallway and someone could walk by at any moment. Even if you admitted to the question he was so adamant to find out the answer to.

He took the fabric of your panties between his teeth and pulled, dragging them down your thighs until they bunched around your knees, just below your skirt. He dove back under and immediately pressed his tongue to your pussy, savoring how your body recoiled in shock.

"Oh, you are," he delightedly whispered. He was nearly in awe, you could picture his starry-eyed stare from beneath the cloth. "How wonderful."

He licked you again, more forcefully this time, pressing his tongue deep in your folds and following every inch of your slit. It was just like the pictures he'd seen in the medical records. No sexual activity. No sexual contact. Reinhardt's pants got even tighter at the thought.

"This is perfect," Reinhardt said. His fingers dug into your hips even as he lowered you, pulling his head out from beneath your clothes. You felt positively violated, and you couldn't even bring the words to your lips to express that. You could only sputter indignantly, something he easily quieted with his intense stare.

"I am not the type of man that should be one’s first," he told you, as though this was an unknown fact. "I am for the...experienced lover. However,"

He rose to one knee, now towering inches over you and reminding you again why this was happening. You could muster no resistance to the piercing gaze he leveled on you.

"I would be damned to let anyone else get to you before myself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All this and more @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: PDA


	2. PDA (Junkrat+Roadhog)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Public Displays of Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog and Junkrat are tired of you flinching away from their touch.
> 
> Gender Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, Public Sex.

“Enough.”

You didn’t even have time to comprehend the word before you were lifted from the back of your shirt, dragged out of your stool and away from the Take Out. Junkrat jumped off the stool next to you, irradiated yellow eyes staring into yours and lapping your fear up with delight.

“Ohh, you really did it now, didn’t ya?” Jamison teased, brushing your hair out of your eyes with his mechanical hands. You looked at him with panic, and he returned the look with glee. His eyes darted to the side, looking at whatever was dragging you through the streets of Junkertown. “What’re we gonna do with them, ‘hog?”

He didn’t answer, characteristically. You were only left to dread what was to come, why they were dragging you around a corner and out of sight. Not quite out of earshot though. Your torture would be just off-screen for everyone in the busy “town square” that Junkertown boasted. Roadhog was practically about to eviscerate you with an audience.

Roadhog’s grip relinquished, sending you to the ground with a wheeze. You pushed yourself up to your knees, and Roadhog stopped you from rising any further.

“Right there.” Your precarious position wasn’t lost on you. You rested on your hands and knees, terrified of defying Roadhog’s orders when he was using such an annoyed tone of voice. Your pants were grabbed and ripped down your legs, and you let out a tear. You had said no one too many times.

“Ohhhhoohoohoo.” Junkrat’s giddy smile was doing nothing to comfort you either. His combination of lust and excitement gave him an almost euphoric glaze over his eyes. You glanced down, and his raggedy shorts were barely able to contain his erection. “Look where you got yourself.”

You wanted to beg them to stop, but asking for such a thing was what sparked this fury that Roadhog was inflicting on you. Your self-preservation kept you from opposing them at all, even though it brought screams to your teeth when Roadhog began to push his fingers into your neglected hole.

“Tight,” Roadhog commented over your muffled screams.

“Too tight for us?”

“Hm.”

Junkrat’s face fell, but he bounced back from it so quickly you almost thought you imagined it. It was hard to see through your tears anyhow. “Well, those things is made to stretch anyways.”

The implications of his statement were punctuated with Roadhog shoving a third finger in alongside the first two. You fell and bit into your arm, hips held up solely by Roadhog’s hand. Why had nobody come to check on the screams? Did they just not care?

Roadhog wrapped his free hand in your hair and yanked your head back up, coming face-to-face with Junkrat’s cock bobbing right in front of you. You turned your head away, but Roadhog forced it back into place with a warning grunt.

“Better get to it, love!” Junkrat chirped, taking hold of the base of his dick and positioning it right in front of your trembling lips. “More ya do now, less it’ll hurt later!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do more stuff on @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Masturbation


	3. Masturbation (D. Va)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D. Va can't help herself when she's in the same room as her crush.
> 
> Afab s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Dubcon, Somnophilia.

This was so inappropriate.

Hana couldn't help the way she was attracted to you. Even with your back turned you were beautiful. The gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slumbered away, blissfully unaware of your best friend laying mere inches away. Masturbating to the very thought of you.

She delved her nose into your hair and took a deep whiff, savoring the fruity smell of your conditioner. Everything about you was perfect; she couldn't get enough. Her finger worked careful ministrations over her clit, aiming for a quick, quiet orgasm. She didn't dare wake you right now.

Except, she knew you were a deep sleeper. And it was hard, trying to get off with the distance between the two of you. Just maybe, if she had a little extra stimulation to get herself going...

Agonizingly slow for a girl chasing her own release, she eased herself onto her side and saddled up behind you. Her crotch pressed against your ass, her tiny chest flattened against your back. You barely stirred. Further motivated, Hana slid her hand between your bodies' and back into her pants, anxious to continue working away her stress.

"Ohhh," she moaned, again pressing her nose into your hair. She loved being this close to you. She could feel your heat radiating through your pajamas, your body completely relaxed and at peace. She wanted to keep you this close forever. She began to grind her crotch up against your ass, and that was when you finally gave a reaction.

"Whossat?" Hana froze, hand still in her pants as she watched you shift. You propped your head up, glancing around the room, but the rest of your movement was sluggish and clumsy. You were still half-asleep. She had a chance to save this.

"Shhh," she whispered, hand sliding out of her pants and into yours. You didn't react at first to the invasion, not until her fingers brushed over your sensitive folds, and even then it was only to give a half-hearted moan before your head collapsed back on the pillow, completely unaware of what Hana was doing to you.

"There you go." Her whispers in your ear soothed you, made it easier to fall back asleep. Yet your rest was impeded by something else: a slowly mounting heat in your lower stomach, spreading through your entire lower half and making your heart race. You didn't want to deal with horniness. You were too tired.

"I've got you." You were glad you could count on D. Va. She would make sure you got to sleep. She resumed grinding up against your ass, the friction pressing you up against her fingertips and making tiny whimpers arise from your throat. You subconsciously grinded up against her fingers, further seeking your release.

"Yes," you muttered, barely able to open your mouth. Hana pressed her finger inside of your hole and curled it, rubbing up against your g-spot. It turned the heat in your body to a burn, right on the precipice of climax. You only needed a nudge to tip over it, and she gave you that nudge in a whisper.

"Come on." You needed no further invitation. You hit your orgasm calmly, wetting the inside of your thighs and Hana's fingers with a wave of sticky cum. It didn't electrify you like most did, merely sapped all the energy out of you and left you even more tired for sleep.

"Goodni Hana," you muttered, unable to hear even the end of your own sentence before you were passed out cold. Hana watched your drop back into dreamland with an almost wistful smile.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered, sliding her opposite hand into her pants to continue her session, pulling her wet fingers up to her mouth and getting off on the taste of your juices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do more on @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Petplay


	4. Petplay (McCree+Hanzo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Petplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "McCree is having a hard time training his pet, so he calls in outside help."
> 
> Afab s/o
> 
> No real warnings for this one. All consensual <3

You didn’t bat an eyelash at your boyfriend’s entrance. McCree had warned you 20 minutes ago that he would be home soon and that he expected you dressed in your full gear. After all, he had a surprise for you.

“Meow,” you deadpanned, barely entertained. McCree pouted a bit at your lack of spirit, and you responded with a cocky smirk.  You laid on the bed lazily, one leg kicking back and forth over the edge and your cheek propped up on your arm. You almost wanted to roll over and properly lay down, but the entrance of another man froze you in your tracks.

“You remember Hanzo, right?” You covered your chest, curling in on yourself to hide your dignity from your acquaintance, but McCree didn’t seem at all bothered by what was happening.

“Y-Yes,” you said, eyes meeting Hanzo’s. They were brown like McCree’s, but sharper, more focused. Where McCree’s eyes were like a puppies, Hanzo’s were those of a hawk.

“Well, I told him I had a pet who wasn’t behaving.” He paused to let the effect sink in, giving you a brief staredown that you didn’t back down from. “Said he can help, so I invited ‘im over. Hope you don’t mind that none.”

“I-I guess…I guess that’s fine.” You weren’t quite sure what to make of the aura that Hanzo gave off. He was here to have fun, supposedly, but he didn’t have an ounce of cheer about him. He looked like he had a job to do. You lowered your head back down onto the bed. “So what–”

“Up!” Your body processed the command before you mind, shooting straight up onto your knees. At attention, you met Hanzo’s eyes and realized what had just happened. You’d just obeyed a command. McCree looked just as surprised as you, but Hanzo was indifferent.

“Good.” You wrung your hands together, suddenly self-conscious about the tail and headband you wore. You’d met Hanzo a few times, you certainly didn’t dislike him, but this level of exposure was almost as mortifying as being ordered around by him. You met McCree’s eyes, and he only gave you a reassuring smile before Hanzo closed in on you for a kiss.

You flinched away at first–you were taken, it was an instinct–but his hand slid up behind your head, locking you in place. You were forced to return his kiss, intense and passionate. It was easy to tell from the way he pushed his weight onto you that he was trying to exert his dominance over you. It felt so fitting, so right, to submit to this man. So you let him.

“Hanzo,” you moaned when he broke his lips away. Fingers seized your throat and forced you down to the bed, effectively pinning you.

“Do not speak, pet.” You nodded, pressing your lips shut, and he gave you the slightest affirming nod before ducking down and flicking his tongue over your slit. Your body reacted to his touch instantly, mewling and arching your back. You didn’t even see McCree approach the bed until his cock flopped right over your open mouth, filling you with the taste of his warmth.

“I ain’t never seen you behave like that,” McCree exclaimed. He tucked your hair away so he could look into your eyes, giving you a little scratch behind your kitty ears while he was at it. “I think you owe your master that same kind of treatment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do more fun stuff @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Human Furniture


	5. Human Furniture (Symmetra)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Human Furniture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Symmetra tests the endurance of her footstool.
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Sorry I missed this yesterday :')
> 
> No warnings, all consensual.

The plans were coming along rather nicely. The 3-d holograph of the new library was projected on the desk in front of her, Symmetra making the occasional tweak to the design as she saw fit. It was nearly done, just the miniature design tweaks and the internal cooling system left to take care of, then a final revision for perfection’s sake. She had been at this for nearly an hour.

An hour. That timeframe hit her again and she blinked, eyes flicking down to the pristine white table. You’d been at this for nearly an hour and not a single complaint?

She couldn’t help herself, she had to peek beneath the table. There you were, on your hands and knees obediently, eyes pointed towards the floor. Her bare feet were resting on your back, no small amount of weight being pressed down on your spine. Symmetra clicked her tongue and you glanced up, letting her see your face red and strained from effort. She could even see the beads of sweat dripping off of your forehead and to the floor.

And yet, not a single sound. She was impressed.

She allowed you a small smile before returning to her work; something of an encouragement. You were doing a good job. She wondered just how close you were to your limit.

“Don’t worry, I am almost finished,” she said to comfort you. She crossed her legs, focusing all of the weight on one point: your lower back. She heard a sharp intake of breath, but not even a whimper made it’s way back out. She curled her toes in delight. You were doing so well.

She returned her attention to her plans, zooming to the interior of the building and arranging for the cooling system to fit between the walls. She didn’t rush herself–perfection took time–but she was certain you would hold up. You were obviously dedicated.

She uncrossed her feet and recrossed them on your upper back, taking your hair between her toes playfully. No response to her tugs, to her heels digging in between her shoulderblades. She kept at it until the plan was finished, everything down to the statues on the shelves tweaked to perfection.

Now, of course, the final revision.

She started from the bottom, going over the front doors and the sign. You had finally begun to shake beneath her, she could feel your arms wobbling beneath her feet, but you were keeping your position regardless. By the time she’d gotten to the third floor, she could hear your labored breathing.

Then, finally, the antenna on the top of the building, meant to light up at night and provide a beacon to the house of knowledge. She appreciated her own subtle tweaks like that. It made her work personal. When she finally decided it was satisfactory, she swiped her hand to the side and sent the holograph flashing away into a saved file.

“Done.” She felt you buckle finally, collapsing beneath her feet with a wheeze of exhaustion. Laughter bubbled over her lips, quiet and smug. She wasn’t even going to punish you for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We write great things @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's (/today's TuT) kink: Uniform


	6. Uniform (McCree)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Uniform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> McCree checks out your office when you're not around.
> 
> Gender Ambiguous s/o
> 
> No Warnings I don't think?

McCree had been in this office more times than he could count--not all of them pleasant--but never alone. You rarely seemed to leave the room, and when you did, you were out on a mission with him. Your empty chair, with your dress uniform hanging over the back, was an entirely foreign sight.

He took time to study the various picture frames on your desk. A photo of you shaking the President’s hand. A photo of you next to Reyes, both of you holding up your Omnic Crisis service awards with pride. A family portrait, suspiciously devoid of any family. Just you beside your pets and parents. His heart swelled a little.

He pulled up your plush office chair and took a seat, studying the picture closer. You looked happy; even without a spouse beside you, or children to hold in your arms. It wasn’t surprising. Someone as busy as you wouldn’t bother with family or relationships anyways. Except, maybe, if the right one came along...

He smiled, laying his head back on the chair. A tiny clink caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder, re-noticing your uniform jacket hanging on the back of the chair.  Of course you wouldn't take that on a mission; it was your dress jacket. But why had you left it out? Were you planning on coming back soon?

Should he...?

Nervously, and not without reassuring himself that the door was locked, he pulled the jacket off of the chair swapped it out with his serape. The fabric was light on his shoulders compared to the weighted cloth, the stiff creases earned over years of wear. He sunk back into the chair, pulling the sleeves up to his wrists and running his fingers over the various medals and accolades on your right breast.

“Jesus,” he muttered to himself when he realized just how many there were. You might as well have been in the military more years than he’d been alive. Not that he doubted them, though. You were the best soldier he’d ever met.

He grabbed hold of the fabric and lifted it to his nose, taking a deep whiff. Your scent hit him in a wave; you had worn this recently. He sunk into the chair with bliss.

The door was locked, wasn’t it?

He ran his palm over the slight bulge in his pants, made larger with another inhale of your distinct scent. Fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans quicker than he could comprehend, and suddenly the room felt 10 degrees warmer.

The urge came from nowhere. His cock in his hands practically burned his palm. It was indescribable, how wrong this was. In your chair. In your jacket.

But...what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, right?

Keeping one cautious eye on the door, he began to stroke his length, thumb brushing over the head and making him shudder. He knew how to get this over with quickly, and he wanted to, but another part of him wanted to truly revel in this moment. How often would he get the opportunity?

He began with slow strokes, cradling his dick in the curves of his knuckles and working it rhythmically. His other hand squeezed the armrest, lifting his boot and bracing it on the edge of his desk. Tongue darting over chapped lips, he closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back.

How many ceremonies had you worn this jacket to? Jesse was so grateful for every one of them, especially knowing how risque you got at the banquets afterwards. Pulling the collar of your formal wear down to expose the top of your chest, “wiping your lips” off on random lapels as you passed by. All this knowing full well you were unattainable. He bit his lips at the thought.

In his mind played the crisply preserved memory of you falling all over him at a U.N function, giddy laughter bubbling over your lips at your own clumsiness. He held you in his arms, closer than ever before. Even now he remembered how stiff he got, every nerve turning against every scream of willpower in his brain.

“Thaaank you, McCree,” you’d drawled, brushing your wine-stained lips over his white tuxedo and leaving a hellish red stain. It looked like it would be hard to wash out. He hoped he’d never have to.

“Just watch yourself, Major,” he replied, barely able to squeeze the words out of his throat. The way you laughed at that, forehead hitting his shoulder when you couldn’t keep yourself upright any longer. He was almost positive he’d flatlined by that point.

“You could call me Major.” Your sloppy attempt at a wink still managed to knock the wind out of him. “Or you could call me Master.”

Your voice saying that word was enough to fuel his fantasies for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how to respond, and how could he? You were drunk. This was how you acted; you didn’t mean any of it.

And fucking yet.

Fingernails digging harsh crescents in the leather of your office chair, he grit his teeth in frustration. It was so damn difficult having that memory. He saw the want so clearly in your eyes that night, sticking with him long after you laughed off your sexual joke and wandered off to find someone else to fluster. He almost wished he’d been blackout drunk himself. Maybe then he could’ve looked at you with that same indifference the next morning.

How ironic, that the best night of his life came just before the worst morning. He remembered every detail down to the fragrance you wore. The same one that lined the inner fabric of your jacket.

He shoved his nose into your uniform near aggressively, taking in your scent and remembering that evening. His strokes became uneven, humping the air as he frantically sought release to the thought of your needy eyes. The stain you left on his chest. You treated everyone like that when you cut loose, but the thought of your sober eyes holding his hostage with that want was nearly too much to bear.

Maybe if he had chased you down that night. His balls twitched at the very thought of what he could’ve gotten up to with you. How hard he would’ve fucked you, shown you what teasing gets you. He wouldn’t have let you take charge, no matter how hard you tried, and would show you such a good time you’d never wander into anyone else’s arms again.

His eyes rolled back in his head. He had you right there in his arms.

“Well, this proves my theory.” McCree nearly jumped out of the seat, squeezing his cock in a vice grip and stifling the resulting scream in embarrassment. You stood in the doorway--the open doorway, of course you had a key--with your arms crossed, watching Jesse with an unreadable expression. “I can’t even take a bathroom break without something stupid happening.”

Oh.

He hid his eyes in shame, covering his cock with his hand to conceal what little dignity, if any, he had left. Cum still leaked from his tip, dripping down his dick and onto his tanned waistline, which was hidden only by his elevated leg.

Needless to say, he was ashamed.

“Wait a minute, is that my fucking Uniform?!”

_Mortified._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yadda yadda @overwatching-you-sleep
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Foodplay


	7. Foodplay (Reinhardt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Foodplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt feeds you your birthday cake. (Happy birthday to who requested this!)
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> No warnings, except maybe a sfw nonconsent warning.

You wished you hadn’t told Reinhardt you wanted a big cake. You just wanted to give him a hard time, but it wasn’t him that was struggling.

“Oh, you look so sweet with that icing on your lip,” he teased, his voice tauntingly warm. You begrudgingly opened your mouth and accepted another mouthful of cake, rubbing your hands over your puffed stomach. You’d long passed the point of unbuttoning your pants; you wondered when you’d outright pop like a balloon.

You didn’t respond, too busy staring at the massive pile of cake still waiting to be eaten. It was your favorite flavor, he’d been considerate enough to do at least that much for you, with light blue icing coating the entire triple decker cake. Floral patterns were etched into the side with a darker blue icing, along with your name along the top. It was beautiful, and a perfect cake for a party. Just not for you. You were barely a quarter of the way through.

“I-I think we should save some for later,” you proposed, stifling a burp in your fist. Reinhardt chuckled and dug the fork back into the cakey mess.

“It’s your birthday! You should treat yourself; forget your limits!” You closed your eyes, trying to will the gurgling in your stomach to stop. This didn’t feel like a fun way to forget your limits.

“Reinhardt, I’m full, please,” you pleaded. You were met with a massive bite at your lips, the metal of the fork hitting your teeth when you denied it access.

“Nonsense!” he cooed, taking your jaw with two of his fingers and squeezing your mouth open. The cake was forced down your throat, the sweet taste of it tarnished by your overflowing stomach. “You have an iron stomach like your lover; it’s why I got you this cake in the first place, dear.”

You squirmed. It felt like nothing inside of you had any more room to move, your guts squished against the walls of your insides. You didn’t think you had another inch of space in you that you could spare. Yet, Reinhardt managed to keep forcing bite after bite of your birthday cake down your throat and you had no choice but to take it, suppressing the bile in your throat as best you can.

“Wait,” you begged between bites, trying to hold back tears. “Aren’t you going to eat some?”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” he laughed, tucking your hair behind your ear. “My dessert tonight is going to be you, my sweet liebling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More stuff @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrows kink: Crossdressing


	8. Crossdressing (Hanzo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Crossdressing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo knocks his boyfriend down a few pegs.
> 
> Male s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, Forced Feminization, Light violence.

The lace Hanzo had dressed you in might as well not have been there. It was thin and see-through, little more than a decorative cloth to your body. Hanzo seemed well aware of this, his tongue trailing up your cock over your lingerie without batting an eye. You were right: it really might not as well have been there.

He pushed you back, and you responded to his demand, letting him back you against the wall. This has proven to be a dangerous place to be, here Hanzo doesn’t even need to make it to the bed to punish you. But what could you do, fight against him? You’d seen where that’s gotten you before and you weren’t keen to repeat the experience.

He curled his fingers beneath your waistband and tugged your panties down, letting them sit between your knees. Your cock was only half-erect, not fully betraying you at least. Unfortunately, Hanzo didn’t seem satisfied with that, and he looked up at you with a sour curl to his lips.

“Not enjoying my touch, slut?” Your lip wobbles, afraid of disappointing Hanzo. No matter how much strength or muscle you boasted, Hanzo had you easily outmatched.

“I-I don’t like–” his open palm across your face, combined with the tangled underwear still around your knees, nearly threw you to the floor. You gripped your cheek in pain.

“What was that?” he asked. You sucked in your breath and recomposed yourself.

“The lace,” you wheezed, daring to meet his eyes. He didn’t slap you again, so you continued.  "I don’t like the lace. I’d rather just be naked.“

He actually seemed to think on his response for a second, like the words caught him off guard. He must not have expected you to end the sentence that way. It didn’t change the fact that his lips eventually curled into a frown.

"Get on your hands and knees.” You didn’t immediately obey, and that was enough for him to seize you by the hair and throw you to the ground. You caught yourself with your hands, leaving you defenseless to his hands grabbing your panties and yanking them back up your legs.

“You do not get a _say_ ,” he emphasized this word with a harsh rip, tearing the thin lace of your panties right down the middle and exposing your abused ass to him, “in how I decorate my pet.”

He shoved himself inside of you dry–you were used to him doing this–but this time he was relentless, bottoming out in seconds and immediately settling into a brutally fast pace. You dug your fingers into the carpet, trying to muffle your screams the same way, but Hanzo’s hand in your hair kept your face away from the floor.

“Be careful,” he quipped, other hand spreading your mouth open and sliding his fingers over your tongue. “Or you will smear your make-up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaa @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> tomorrow's kink: Orgasm Denial


	9. Orgasm Denial (Zenyatta)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9: Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta edges his lover closer to the Iris.
> 
> Late and also I'm skipping Day ten because ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Prob come back to do it later.
> 
> I guess dubious consent on the orgasm denial part but technically all consentual, enjoy<3

Zenyatta loved to keep you on his lap as he toyed with you. It gave you the feeling of drifting away, your toes barely touching the floor as you float along.

Like many of Zenyatta's tricks, it was a powerful illusion.

"How does it feel?" he questioned, fingers working quick circles on your clit. He didn't have any sexual organs, or anything to substitute for them, but he more than made up for this with what little equipment he did have: His fingers. "Does it feel like you are on a cloud?"

You nodded, grinding your hips against his finger. There was a noise of displeasure, and a small jolt of electricity traveled through his finger and right onto your clit. You jumped and arched your back, but his other arm wrapped around you and kept you bound tight to his chest, unable to even slide down. "Zenyatta, please--"

"I am going to take you on a journey tonight," he hummed in your ear. "Allow me to guide you, while you sit back and relax."

With that last word, his finger began to vibrate, washing all the phantom pain of the sting away with blissful overstimulation. You bucked and yowled in Zenyatta's arms, chasing after a quickly approaching orgasm. Just when you were about to reaching your breaking point, all stimulation ceased.

"Noooo," you begged, hips searching for his absent finger. He grasped onto your thigh, stilling you. "Finish meee."

There was a chuckle, and bulky metallic lips nipped at the shell of your ear. "Not yet."

No amount of whines would get him to combat your mounting frustration. He merely hugged you close, letting you hear his mechanical buzzing from deep within his chest. Just when you were about to get more annoyed than horny, both of his hands moved to your inner thighs. You gasped, and he began gently massaging the sensitive skin.

"This is all a part of the journey," he told you, fingers trailing up your legs and moving over your neglected clit. The stimulation revitalized you, and instantly you were reaching for him again, like putty in his hands. He pressed a finger to your clit, and this time you grabbed onto his wrist, desperate to keep him there. Another laugh.

"Finish me," you asked again. You anticipated his touch with growing impatience every second. He merely held you, finger still on your clit, providing you nothing. Then: "Please?"

Like that, the switch was flipped, and his fingers began to vibrate. He plunged his ring finger and pinky deep inside of you, knuckle of his midde finger pressed on your clit. The pressure of the internal stimulation made your body spring to life, nearly jumping out of your seat on his lap had it not been for his vice grip on your thigh.  
  
"Thank you!" you cried out, revelling at how his metal fingers filled you. It was so inhuman, but so alive. Your muscles clenched around him, guiding his hand in and out of your hole by his wrist. You were close, your coil winding for the second time. You felt about ready to burst, and Zenyatta seemed to be working to his grand finale.

Except, it didn't come. He had ripped his hand out of your grip before you could even comprehend it, tearing a cry out of your throat. Tears spilled over your cheeks, your fists pounding on his legs. You were so close!

"Calm down, my darling," Zenyatta purred, seemingly indifferent to your tears of rage. "This is all a journey to bring you closer to enlightenment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scream @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Branding/Marking


	10. Marking/Branding (McCree + Reyes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9: Marking/Branding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesse attempts to take your attention during a threesome, but Gabriel won't be outdone.
> 
> Afab s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Dubious consent (It's never explicitly stated but I'd say dubcon at best), light violence.

You could tell tonight that Gabriel was working through some stress. The way he clenched at you, like he was afraid you'd melt away right beneath his fingers. Nails dug patterns across your back, grabbing hold of your body and nearly bouncing you up and down on his cock. Fresh hickeys bloomed beneath his lips, punctuated with a sharp pop as he took his lips off of your neck.

"You're so energetic tonight," he praised, fingers weaving in your hair and taking a light grip. You looked him in the eye, doing your best to give him an encouraging smile and ignoring how full your lower half was.

"She's lively," Jesse agreed. Metal fingers took firmer hold of your hips, and he pistoned himself in your ass the best he could at the angle Gabriel had you at. It was obvious who was winning tonight. Gabriel simply had too much pent-up tension, too much frustration to work out through you to be overshadowed. And McCree hated it.

Gabriel pressed his lips to yours, tongue ducking into your mouth and immediately diving down your throat. Eyes rolled back in your skull, and he hummed in satisfaction before pulling back and returning to your lips once more, much more chaste and polite.

"You always make the prettiest faces for me," Gabriel said. McCree huffed and pulled back, his cock tugged out of your ass in one quick move that made you gasp. You felt so empty, and so cold once McCree's body heat let yours. Gabriel peeked over your shoulder and scoffed at what he saw. "Jealous, cowboy?"

"I'm just getting somethin'," McCree responded from a corner of the room you couldn't see. Gabriel gave a little shrug and let his head fall back to the bed, pressing his lips to yours again. You heard McCree shuffling, and the flick of his lighter. So he was smoking? Maybe McCree was stressed too...

His body heat returned to yours, and you barely had time to shift your hips to welcome him before a searing pain on your back seized your muscles in place.

"Fuck!" you yelled, hands grabbing onto Gabriel's shoulders and squeezing in some form of distraction from the burn. All the air in your lungs felt suspended.

"The hell are you doing?" Gabriel demanded, stopping mid-thrust to glare at McCree. The cherry of the cigar dragged in a horizontal line across your back before getting snubbed out near your spine.

"Burnin' my initials," Jesse replied, matter-of-factly. Another flick of the lighter, and the cigar returned to the line and swooped down in a J. You squirmed as best you could, but all it did was ruin his precision. He sniffed and relit. "I'll have to redo that one."

Gabriel shook his head and returned to fucking you, taking your lips in his before you could scream again. You closed your eyes and squeezed out the tears, writhing in Gabriel's arms as Jesse's cigar retraced the path of his first initial. You couldn't even bring yourself to kiss Gabriel back, a fact he was very displeased with. He broke away with a growl.

"Hey." You tried to turn your head to the side and he snatched your chin in his fingers, forcing you to stare into his eyes. “Pay attention to me.”

“Gabriel…” you beg, lower half twitching in futility as Jesse began on the M. It was so painful you thought you were going to pass out. You closed your eyes. “Please--”

He wouldn’t have it. He let go of your chin and dug all of his fingers in your hair, pushing his cock up in you as far as he could get. The embers digging into your back meant nothing to him.  “Fucking look at me. Look at me.”

You cracked open your eyes, barely able to make out Gabriel’s form below you through your tears. His smile was crystal clear to you though. “Just me.”

Jesse snarled, and you knew then that neither man would leave satisfied with how tonight ended. Even if you gave it your all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoopla @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Breeding


	11. Breeding (Doomfist)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12: Breeding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akande makes sure you never get the idea that you can leave him.
> 
> What is "on time" anyways. Afab s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon mainly

You'd spent so many years laying in this bed, it almost didn't feel suspicious when you felt the familiar plush of the comforter over your naked skin. You reveled in it for only a quick, sleepy moment before you realized who the bed belonged to. And it certainly wasn't yours or your boyfriend's.

You opened your eyes and sat up, almost immediately pinned back down by a strong hand on your shoulder. You turned your head the other way and found Akande standing there, staring at you with a near indifference. Wasn't he in prison?

"I see you've moved on," he commented. He looked unamused with the way you paled, unable to comment on the authenticity of his statement. You hadn't expected to see Akande again in your life. Doomfist was meant to be locked away for life.

"I had all the variables calculated, or at least, I assumed." He pulled himself onto the bed with you, his massive frame hovering over yours. "I hadn't accounted for disloyalty."

"I-I didn't think I'd see you again," you squeaked in your defense, intimidated by the sleek prosthetic he wore in lieu of his gauntlet. You had almost forgotten that you were naked until he swiped the blankets off of you, exposing your flesh to the cool air of his room.

"You should have known better." 

Fear overwhelmed you, ignoring common sense to try and slide out from beneath him. Cold metal fingers seized your arm and held you in place, his eyes containing no patience for your antics.

"Don't challenge me," he warned, slowly and deliberately flipping you onto your stomach. "You will lose."

Reluctantly, and not without every limb shaking, you moved with him, allowing him to position you on your hands and knees. A position he often had to take you in before, due to his massive size. You tremored as memories of trying to take all of him crossed your mind, and now you hadn't fucked him for years. Your body wasn't prepared for this.

"Akande, please be gentle," you begged. If you couldn't stop this, maybe you could appeal to his softer nature. He certainly still had feelings for you if he sought you out, didn't he? What you instead received was a scoff and a sharp slap on the ass for your audacity. You gasped as your skin numbed, then prickled with a sharp burn.

"No visits, no calls. I thought it was because they wouldn't allow you, then..." he sighed and spread your legs wider, making room for him to slide between them. You heard him shuffling with his pants, then a warmth you had almost forgotten pressed between your cheeks. 

"I thought of you," you said in a last ditch effort to earn some form of sympathy.  

"Oh, did you?"

He quickly pistoned his hips back and then forward, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. You sucked your breath in, trying to adjust to the stretch that your body was no longer used to. He seemed almost passionate, a mockery of how he used to fuck you, using fear to hold you in place instead of desire.

“Why?” you begged to know, while you still maintained your ability to speak. He was only sinking deeper inside of you, far surpassing what you had assumed was your limit. 

“I will do what it takes to keep you with me.” His body fell over yours, his warmth a contrast to the coldness in his voice. “Even if that means a family.”

The finality of his words struck you like a knife to the chest. You collapsed and his synthetic arm wrapped around your midsection, holding your body up to maintain his angle. All of your tears went ignored. If anything, he moved faster, his thrusts sporadic and deep inside of you.

“You will never escape me. I’ll prove that to you by any means necessary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatttttt @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Gunplay


	12. Gunplay (Reaper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13: Gunplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaper decides the best gun-cleaning kit is your mouth.
> 
> holy shit I'm catching up
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, bloodplay, like, generally if you're not a fan of gore/guro you won't like this one that's all this one is.

Reaper’s least favorite part was the end. It began the second the last body hit the floor, when a strange silence permeated the air. Every breath weighed down with the guilt he was supposed to be feeling. It never really hit him, but it wasn’t the most fun environment to be stewing in.

He sighed and went to evaporate, in no rush to stick around. He stopped midway, freezing entirely to cock his ear. As soon as he turned to listen, what he thought was breathing stopped. Oh, well  _that_  won’t do. 

His legs dissipated in a hazy cloud, floating around the security office like a mermaid on air. In the process of double-checking bodies, he noticed just how much blood had bounced back on his guns, coating them in a healthy layer of red. If he waited until he took them back to base to clean, they’d be jammed, and that wasn’t something he felt like dealing with when he had another mission in less than 8 hours.

He dropped another corpse, eyes searching for the next body left in his rampage when a muffled sneeze turned his attention. An office with an open door stood directly adjacent from him, it’s former occupant stuck half-in and half-out the door in her fit to escape. Head tilted in curiosity that would’ve looked innocent on anyone else, he entered the room.

“Hello,” he greeted, re-materializing his legs just outside the puddle of blood the dead agent lay in. He got no response, but the smell of fear in the air overpowered the guilt for just a moment and his lips cracked in a grin. 

Besides the filing cabinets and bookshelves that lined the wall, the only furniture that adorned the space was a massive wooden desk. Reaper didn’t exactly have his work cut out for him. He circled the desk in an instant, kneeling down and taking in the sight of–Oh, look at _you._

You scrambled against the back of your hiding space, a scream erupting from your throat and your trembling fingers desperately trying to wrench your sidearm from your holster. You were obviously petty security. No threat, not at all, he could dispatch you in an instant. He raised his left shotgun to your head, forced to look again at the blood coating the sides. Your breath hitched in your throat, your fear so  _delicious_  to look at.

Plans changed. “Clean it.”

Your eyes flickered between the gun and him, trying to piece the situation together. Once the shock of immediate death faded into possible death, you pulled your tucked-in shirt out from your uniform pants, raising it to wipe the blood–your coworkers blood–off the sides. He ripped the gun out of your clothed grasp, dropping his other gun to snatch your shirt himself.

Pain racketed through your body as he yanked you out and threw you on top of the desk like a ragdoll. The smell of blood was so much more prominent up here; you tried hard not to look outside the door behind you. He raised the gun again, closer to your head to send the message across. “With your mouth.”

You stared at him in mild disbelief. All that blood, all the potential–no,  **IMMINENT**  diseases you’d catch from that? A cock of the gun was all it took to scrub your mind blank. Of course he didn’t care, not when his other option was to murder you outright. 

Trying to overcome your disgust with your will to live, you tilted your head forward and went to lick the muzzle, wincing at the coppery taste. You ran your tongue tentatively along the massive barrel of the gun, and Reaper tsk’ed with irritation.

“Not fast enough.” You headed his command best you could, running the flat of your tongue over the bloodstains and letting the drool fall off your tongue rather than down your throat. Even this wasn’t good enough. “Fucking use your mouth.”

“I am!” He had you by the throat quicker than you thought humanly possible, choking every last ounce of breath out of your system. He jabbed his gun into your thigh without a second thought and squeezed the trigger. Somehow, miraculously, blood didn’t immediately begin gushing from your main artery, but the blood did flow and it fucking  _hurt_. Your vision went white, then black, and a sobering slap with bloody metal turned it back to normal.

“I’ll take you to the medical wing if you finish before the blood loss hits.” You stared at the gun leveled over your mouth, re-dirtied with your own fresh blood. His hand retreated from your throat, allowing you to suck in a massive breath, which wasn’t a wasted opportunity. The muzzle of the gun pressed in your wide-open mouth, preventing you from closing your mouth.

You were afraid of being caught in this position, of swallowing all this blood, but those horrors were child’s play compared to the thought of disobeying. Nothing at the moment filled you with more fear than dying in the hands of this murderer. Who knew what he would do to your body if given the opportunity?

“Better hurry up,” he teased, palm of his freehand covering the hole of the wound to give you precious more seconds. “I have another gun I need cleaned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check us out: @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's kink: A/B/O


	13. A/B/O (Junkrat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 14: A/B/O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat experiences an Omega in heat for the first time.
> 
> Look who's all caught up :')
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Dubcon, Kidnapping

In the outback, Omegas were a rarity more valued than gold, diamonds, and debauchery combined. A severe lack of omegas made creating a new generation difficult, and while most of the outback's citizens were okay with this, some weren't: And they were willing to pay big money for an Omega to carry their young.

It was a lucrative business and Junkrat honestly hadn't considered it at first. He and Roadhog did so much travelling, why not bring an Omega back and get millions? They could retire to Fiji and buy the entire island for themselves after selling a dozen! Roadhog made no comment, understandably. His inability to reproduce had always been a sore subject, and Junkrat was perfectly fine with silence as an answer.

That led to you; the first Omega he's ever seen for more than a minute. You hadn't fought against him much at all when he kidnapped you, not even on the ride back to Australia. You barely moved when he chained you to the wall, removed all your clothes. Just laid there and sweat. It was a little worrying.

"I think this one's dead, 'Hog," Jamison commented, poking your forehead with his finger. "Dead and don't know it."

"No, idiot," Roadhog commented from his seat on the workbench, supervising Junkrat's work with annoyed reluctance. "These are all signs of heat."

"Oh, like you'd know, wouldn't you?" Despite the sass, the wordiness of his companion harnessed Junkrat's sporadic attention, and he actually looked over your face. Your cheeks were dark with blush, beds of sweat curling over your forehead. You looked at him blankly, perhaps nonplussed by his scent, but somewhere deep in your eyes he saw your desire to fight. Maybe you'd be a bigger pain in the ass after your heat was over.

For all that he saw though, he couldn't smell anything significant. That was his own doing; he had plugged his nose to prevent any sort of loss of control from this supposed scent that Omega's omitted. He had lived around Alphas all his life and had grown completely used to their pervasive smell. He didn't need any topsy turns to that world of his.

"We gotta sell her quick then!" Junkrat declared, rounding on his heel and beginning up the stairs. "Come on, lug. We'll get some shut-eye and take her out to town in the morning. They'll be bidding like crazy, I tell ya!"

\--

Junkrat hadn't been asleep for an hour before a most heavenly scent drew him out of bed. It was like a siren's call, he practically slept-walk on his hunt to find it. It led him from his room all the way down to his basement, where you were on your hands and knees, masturbating feverishly, slick leaking from your hole and down your legs.

It was one of the greatest things Junkrat had ever seen in his life. Every single thought about selling you suddenly poofed from his mind. His pajama's were becoming much too tight to contain his cock, which had shot up faster than he could ever remember. Christ, so this was what an Omega was? No goddamn wonder they were so expensive.

He approached you with an almost sort of caution, flesh hand hovering over your skin. You were hot to the touch, and when you smelled Junkrat so close to you, you practically whined in need.

That was enough for him.  His sweats were yanked down to his knees, pulling his body over you and pushing himself inside of you. It wasn't like fucking a beta, or even a wrestling match between two alphas. This was heaven, like you were made for him to take. He growled as he pressed his full length inside of you, and you raised your hips to meet him. Any protest you'd had was lost in your desire for an Alpha, and Junkrat was more than happy to satisfy your need.

"I think I'm gonna keep you," he whispered in your ear, eager to experience knotting an Omega for the first time. "Just wait until I get my rut again, then come down here and breed you until--until--fucking  _hell_ \--"

He could feel his orgasm coming on strong. So much more instinctual than the recreational sex he’s had over the years, this was more than an overwhelming desire, rather a need to knot and fill you. So he did just that, ignoring all resistance to force himself inside of you.

You took him beautifully, your hips pressed up to his and your walls clenched tightly around his swelling knot. He could feel his cum flowing in bursts, coating your insides, and he was unashamed to let out a blissed-out moan. 

"So we're keeping the Omega." Unphased by the interruption, Junkrat rested his entire body over yours and brought you slowly to the floor, looking at Roadhog through his post-sex haze.

"Was sort of inevitable, if you ask me." Roadhog snorted, descending down the last two steps and reaffirming his seat at the workbench.

"My turn next."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wubba lubba dub dub *gunshots* @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Oviposition


	14. Macro/Micro (Reaper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 16: Macro/Micro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaper finds himself a new toy.
> 
> Skipped 15, gonna come back to it later. I may be a failure but im the best fuckin failure 
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, minor blood/violence,

"Well, isn't this a treat?"

You didn't look or feel very much like a treat, but to a monster like Reaper you might as well have been. He let you dangle by your shirt hooked on his claw, helplessly flailing in front of the un-seeing eyes of his mask. From this close, you could almost make out the face behind those holes, inhuman eyes trained on your tiny body.

"Let me go!" you chirped, raising your voice as high as you could. The air that escaped from his dry laugh was fetid. 

"You wouldn't make it five seconds in this base at this size," he said, raising his other finger to your throat. At this size, the metal claw of his gauntlet looked and felt much like a sword at your neck. "Might as well let me keep you."

You wouldn't have that. In a last ditch effort, you raised your arms and slid out of your shirt and hoodie, tiny body falling the 10 inches to the table like it was a 2-story drop. You barely missed landing in a glass of water, but you clipped the side of it with your leg, causing it to tip over right next to you. Water seeped into your pants and shoes, but at least hitting the glass slowed your fall, even at the cost of a gnarly bruise on your shin. 

You scrambled to your feet on the table and darted. The edge wasn't even close, and you were scooped up by Reaper's cold fingers, lifted once again to his eyes. His hand was bare now, gauntlet discarded somewhere on the floor and his scarred fingers wrapped around your bare upper body.

"That wasn't very smart," he said, raising his other, still-clawed hand. "I could squash you like a little bug and you're still going to try and run?"

He loosened his fingers, instead holding you in his palm. You pulled off one of your waterlogged shoes and threw it at him, watching it bounce harmlessly off his mask with little deterrence. You pulled off the other and tossed it at his eyehole, missing by an inch and striking him square between his eyes.

"...Idiot." He hooked his index finger in your pants, yanking them down hard enough to hurt. Bare and exposed, you covered your decency and tried to run. Two claws seized your shoulder and lifted you, puncturing your skin and allowing small trickles of blood to pour down your arm. Your struggles only ripped the wounds further, so you froze in submission.

Ignoring your pain and tears, Reaper lowered you down to his waist level. His thumb was already hooked in his pants, pulling his waistband down and exposing his half-hard cock. "Make yourself useful."

With little grace, he dropped you on his cock. You tried to pick yourself up, but every attempt to stand nearly sent you tumbling to the floor below; a death drop for you. He grabbed onto his cock and held it up straight, positioning you until your face hovered right next to his slit. It was massive to you, longer than your tongue and wet with his first drop of precum. 

"Go on." Still leaking blood, you wrapped your arms around the head of his cock and took a small lick, grinding against the soft skin of his cock. He growled, his cock becoming firmer beneath your body. "Keep up the enthusiasm."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Hypnotism


	15. Hypnotism (Widowmaker)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 17: Hypnotism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Widowmaker puts the final touches on a project in her likeness.
> 
> I'm super caught up on Kinktober shit now yay. Support me in my endeavors
> 
> Amab s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Dubcon, Mentions of torture

Widowmaker accepted nothing less than perfection for you. It was paramount; it was unable to be overlooked. Every detail, down to the yellow glow of your eyes, was to match. You were made in her image, after all.

“Look at me.” You focused your unaffected stare, gazing blankly at Amelie. She’s looking in your eyes, something approximating admiration lingering deep within her. Deep inside you, bile turned. This was why Talon had agreed to repeat the process, why they’d allowed Widowmaker to bring in another assassin. Their last “unfeeling” project had been a failure.

She’s inspecting you, her fingers caressing your cheekbones and pulling your hair out of your face. You can’t help but feel indifferent to the way she runs her hands over your chest, how she openly stares at your new face. Fingers brush against your cock through your bodysuit, and you barely move.

“You look lovely tonight,” she complimented, slowly lowering to her knees. You watch her, emotionless as she drags the zipper down the front of your body, slowly exposing cerulean skin until your cock fell into view. She took it between her hands and began to stroke, working away at your half-hard erection. It was strange, the sexual aspect without any sort of emotional backup. Whether it was love, lust, or just drunken acceptance, you’d always felt SOMETHING during sex.

Now, you could only sigh as your hard-on grew in her hands. It felt nice, that much was true. Just not enough to warrant anything out of you. You’d undergone so much in the past few months, seen so many things no human ever should, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever react to anything again. Hell, you wondered if you were even human anymore.

But, you looked like one, and as such, you guessed you should act like it. What would you have done in this situation if you were in it before, when your heart beat faster and you could actually bring a smile to your face? Well, you guessed you would grab her head, so you did so, pushing her forward towards your dick. She took your initiative with something nearing excitement, lips wrapped around the head of your cock and sucking. Slowly, following your hands movements, she bobbed her head back and forth, her hands coming to rest on your hips.

It’s been awhile, and the sensation is so much more pleasant than anything you’ve felt in a long while, so it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to approach. You feel it coming, your heart rate rising and your breath getting faster, but it still lacks. You’re left without your emotions to cushion the rush of your orgasm, grunting in near-pain as over-stimulation brought forth your climax, shooting your cum down Amelie’s throat.

“Thank you,” you say, because you can’t think of anything else. You struggle to catch your breath, feeling emptier than ever after the encounter, and Widowmaker only stands up and begins to re-zip your bodysuit.

“Everything seems to be working marvelously” she concluded, a half-smile on her lips. “You’re perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whats this? whats this? @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Monster


	16. Monster (Hanzo + McCree)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 18: Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo let's his werewolf McCree have his fun.
> 
> Afab s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, Bestiality technically, Knotting, etc. Basically what you'd expect from a Monster-fucking story

McCree has always been aggressive on a rut. You weren’t sure why, maybe it was just in his nature, but you would often watch from a distance as he chewed at the chain that kept him in place, teeth digging into the metal with shocking force and still managing to get nowhere. How he looked at you, the only potential mate in the entire vicinity, with such primal want in his eyes it nearly made you sick.  
  
Today, that chain was no longer there, and McCree had nothing and nobody to tell him no.  
  
“You appear to be enjoying yourself,” Hanzo, your master, commented. You wondered how that was possible, the way tears were falling down your cheeks, face pressed in the dirt and claw marks all over your back from where you and McCree struggled. It wasn’t much of a fight. Submission was the only possible outcome, and McCree was more than happy to mount you when you finally raised your ass in the air for him.  
  
“N-No,” you grunted, fingers clawing in the grass for some form of control. McCree pounded into you relentlessly, his massive size stretching you beyond what you would have thought imaginable. You opened your eyes and saw Hanzo’s boots right in front of you.  
  
“I hope not,” Hanzo said. You glanced up and saw his glowing white eyes, alight with amusement. “This is punishment. I would prefer not to do anything worse.”  
  
Any begging you wanted to do was trapped in your throat, overwhelmed by cries of ecstasy as McCree slammed his knot against your hole, obviously anxious to breed you. You tried to push yourself up to your hands and knees and got a heavy paw against your right cheek, pinning your face back down to the ground. You weren’t going anywhere.  
  
“Maybe I should make you a pet as well,” Hanzo pondered aloud, slowly dropping to his knees so he could get a better look at your defeated face. He reached up and began to scratch McCree’s side, earning a pleased growl from the werewolf.  "Even lower than the servant you are. I could let McCree breed you at his leisure; not even giving you the pleasure of my cock. You will have to earn the privilege.“  
  
McCree obviously seemed pleased with this idea. Tongue lolled over his black lips, panting in exertion as much as it was enjoyment. He quickened his pace, fucking you brutally and shoving his knot against your hole with every thrust. It wasn’t long before his urges overtook him and he pushed hard, shoving his knot against you until your body finally relented and allowed it in.

The knot swelled inside of you and locked in almost immediately, every muscle in your body going slack. Werewolf cum was so much hotter and thicker than a human’s that you felt it filling you instantly, stomach beginning to round to compensate for his massive load. You groaned as fullness started to overcome you.  
  
You looked and felt absolutely pitiful. Your ass was stuck in the air, forced up and down as McCree viciously fucked you through his orgasm, until every last drop had been forced inside of you. You sniffled, looking Hanzo in the eye again and being met with a cruel smile in return.  
  
"Whether it’s a beast or a man,” he said, reaching to rub your extended stomach. “Being filled and bred is what you were made for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com knows where you sleep
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Bloodplay


	17. Bloodplay (Pharah)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19: Bloodplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pharah rescues her lover from kidnappers.
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Blood/Violence, non-sexual anything for this one

There was so much red. The fires that rose in the wake of her rockets, striking barrels and cars and anything that moved. The blood that spilled over the concrete outside the warehouse and on the tile within. And the red that lined the edges of her vision, like blood vessels creeping in on her sight. Fareeha was fuming pissed, and she did not stop until she got to the basement.

There you were, strung up like dead meat, various bruises and lacerations over your body. Some older, but many recent. It looked like whoever had last been in here had just left. Still furious, Pharah turned to the other door and went to give chase, but your raggedy voice deterred her.

"Fareeha," you called, barely able to get the word out. You sounded like you hadn't slept in days. She stopped and turned around, torn between her need to punish those responsible and her need to help you. They would get away otherwise. She wouldn't be able to track them down, and they'd get away with hurting you.

"Pharah,  _please._ " That tore it. She ran back over to you and got to work undoing the rope that held your wrists, sawing through intricate knots with her ballistic knife. As soon as you lost the suspension you fell in her arms, unable to even stand. She felt a pang of guilt--not the first--strike her heart and she held you close, only happy to have you again.

"I'm so sorry I let this happen to you," she told you, pulling away to look into your eyes. You looked exhausted, dark rings circling your eyes, your lips chapped and dehydrated. Your face was gaunt, from hunger or trauma, perhaps even both. Yet still, when your eyes fell upon her, they widened in a characteristic adoration that Pharah was so grateful to see.

"You look so..." you trailed off, merely staring at her. The blood on the beak of her signature uniform, dripping down on her chest and over her arms. Every inch of the metal saw some form of blood splatter on it. The blood of your torturers. She had shown no mercy, she absolutely obliterated anything that hurt you, just like she had promised you when you first met. "You look  _hot."_

This took her off guard. You saw her eyes widen behind her visor, looking down to inspect herself. You pressed your hand against her chest, some of the blood dripping down your arm finding its way in the mix. "This is a good look for you."

She shakes her head, trying hard to hide her smile. "You're still in shock, darling."

You shook your head, scooping some of the blood pooling from your ear into your collarbone and spreading it over a bare spot on her shoulder. "Thank you for rescuing me, Fareeha."

Confused, certainly, and not without a bit of self-control on her end, Pharah wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close. You were so delighted to see her, and you weren’t repulsed by all that killing, how could she complain?  "Of course. I would do anything for you."

"Of course you would," you responded, wiping some leftover blood off on her chest. "You'd even kill for me."

Her responding chuckle was nothing short of bone-killing. “Of course I would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @overwatching-you-sleep knows what you want
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Drug Use


	18. Drug Use (Genji)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20: Drug Use

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genji enjoyed the game of unraveling the uptight ones.
> 
> Afab s/o
> 
> Warning for: Dubious consent, Weed, that's the two factors that make up this entire drabble

The night had begun innocently enough. You already knew Genji was trying to get into your pants; he was so brazen about it that it was nearly off-putting compared to the rest of his bitter nature. So, you were on guard. He was promising to get you high for the first time, and you wouldn't let yourself fall victim to any poor judgment. **  
**

Then, after your second hit of the blunt, it hit you. Mid-cough, you felt your body lighten, as though you weighed 100 pounds less. You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked up at Genji, trying to parse the sudden euphoria you felt. Everything felt so good, you never imagined it would be like this.

"I think I'm buzzed...hehee," you covered your mouth, handing the blunt off to him. He shook his head and pushed it back towards you.

"No, please. Enjoy yourself," he insisted, red eyes aglow. He seemed to share your goofy smile beneath his mask, despite not even hitting it yet. In the back of your head, you recalled complaining about the blunts being black cherry flavored. Now, the smoke you pulled from it seemed to tickle every inch of your tastebuds, sliding down your throat much easier than the hits before it. You still coughed when it came back up though.

"Okay, okay," you wheezed, forcing the blunt in his hands. "I'm done."

He watched you cough with amusement all over his face, hand slowly releasing the latches that allowed him to pull his mask off. Looking up, you saw him taking a long drag from the blunt, more experienced that you could have ever expected from him, even knowing of his past.

"Come here." Smoke poured from his lips as he grabbed your shirt and pulled you forward, pressing your lips to his and blowing the contents of his mouth into your lungs. It felt wrong, but on so many more levels it felt nice. The warmth of his lips, the feeling of your shirt being pulled, and wow, wasn't Genji hot? You always knew that but why were you just now noticing that? He just had such a beautiful face behind that mask...

Things descended quicker than you expected. It wasn't long before he had you spread-legged on the couch, his fingers working your hole with quick, precise thrusts. You whined in his shoulder, moving your hips to get him deeper inside of you, to hit that sweet spot. He hadn't even fucked you yet and this was already the best sex of your life.

"Looks like you were missing out," Genji teased, taking another hit with his free hand like it was nothing. Clinging to his shirt desperately, you met his eyes and he grinned right at you. Smoke fumed out of his nose, making him resemble a smug dragon. "Isn't that right?"

"Y-Yeah," you breathed, gasping when he yanked his fingers out of you and began to remove the plate that hid his cock. "W-Wait, Genji, I don't think we should do this."

"Hmm," he hummed, as though he were considering for a moment, before he finally raised the blunt to his lips. "It sounds to me like you're not high enough."

Another massive hit, and he forced your lips open with his tongue before exhaling the smoke down your throat. Your senses both dulled and heightened at the same time, eyes rolling back in your head, and when you felt the head of Genji's cock pressed against your hole, all the resistance in you had mysteriously vanished.

"Do you want me?" he asked, like he already knew the answer. You nodded, and he smiled in satisfaction before pressing his cock inside of you. "That’s what I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com send me more weed requests
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Bodyguard


	19. Bodyguard (Roadhog)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 21: Bodyguard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog's boss makes a tempting offer.
> 
> Afab s/o
> 
> Doing some minor switches on the list last minute, going to have some repeats for days 23/28 instead of the usual prompt. Still hoping to round out to 31 <3
> 
> Warnings for: Dubcon (closer to Noncon the way it's written)

"Mako, do you want me?" **  
**

Though the question came out of nowhere, he barely reacted to it. You didn't really expect him to. The book he was reading seemed far more interesting.

"Yup." Another classic characteristic of Mako: Brutally honest. You kicked your legs up on the table, staring at the ceiling of the shitty motel room you'd rented.

"Then why don't we fuck?" Mako shifted, sitting up straighter against the wall before returning to his book.

"You're my boss," he explained simply. After careful thought, he added with a chuckle: "Unethical."

Without further hesitation you stood up and ripped your shirt over your head. Mako's eyes were now trained solely on you, expression unreadable but most likely something resembling shock. Then again, it was Roadhog you were talking about.

"Go ahead," you encouraged, gesturing to your breasts. "Let's fuck."

Mako sighed, bookmarked his page, and slowly began to stand. Almost amazed at how easy he was to convince, you began to second guess. You were truly looking for a challenge, something to tease him over for now and hours down the road, like you so often did. You knew he wanted you. Why would he suddenly give in now?

"Bend over the table." Your bodyguard giving you a command threw you off, and your second of pause was enough to get him impatient. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, shoving your body over the table. He ripped your pajama pants down your legs, exposing your slit to the chill of the room.

"Mako," you started, but he silenced you with a slap to your ass. You moaned out, and heard shuffling behind you before a bandana was shoved in your mouth, a makeshift gag that barely muffled you.

"Always acting so tough," he muttered, rings pulled off his fingers and clattering on the wooden table before his fingers pushed inside of you. Your body eagerly accepted his thick digits, hips rolling to brush his fingers against your sweet spot. 

You tried to spit out the gag, and Roadhog covered your mouth with his other hand, keeping it right where it was. "Maybe you need to be shown who's really the boss."

"Me!" you tried to shout, and Mako pushed another finger inside of you, making you scream. He laughed behind his mask, distorted through the filters and leather, and removed his fingers, replacing them with the clothed bulge under his pajama pants. A slow grind that made sure you felt every inch.

"Feel this?" he asked, hand gradually moving from your mouth to your hair, where he took a firm hold and pulled. You cried out, and he squeezed out a wheeze of dry laughter. "That's what happens when you play with big boys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com soon the Kinktober will be over and you guys can finally see other content woo
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Blackmail


	20. Blackmail (Reyes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22: Blackmail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel produces interesting files about your boyfriend, but what's more interesting is his reason.
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, Coercion (which you know, blackmail.)

You stared at the files spread out before you. Nothing majorly incriminating, nor was there anything you didn’t already know or suspect. A photograph of your boyfriend at a college party, drunkenly punching another party-goer. A couple DUIs slid under the table. Caught exchanging with a loan shark.

Nothing compared to what it could be. But you and Gabriel both knew that with how hard Overwatch was trying to maintain their image, these little infractures could be deadly. This could spell the end of your lover’s career. It was a waste of time to you, but Gabriel must have known that, so he was showing you these files for a completely different reason.

“What are these for?” you question, reading a file on a bar fight your boyfriend was involved in. Years before Overwatch, before you. You couldn’t imagine the same person doing it now, but then again, he always joked about how much he regretted his younger years. Gabriel’s hand fell on your shoulder, his voice closer to your ear than you would have liked.

“These are the slip-ups on his record I had to wipe clean to let him into Blackwatch. We talked everything over, agreed that him being in Blackwatch would be for the greater good. Not the first time I picked up petty criminals off the street.” You lowered the manila folder you held in your hands, and he laughed to himself. “Wouldn’t it confuse him if I were to come out and accuse him of hiding it from me?”

You turned to look over your shoulder, and the look you were met with was more intense than any stare you’d seen him level on an initiate. “What do you mean, Reyes?”

“It’d really ruin him, this kind of stuff.” Gabriel tapped his finger on one of the files, pictures of your boyfriend’s injuries after a high school fight. “This kind of job, if you’re not squeaky-clean, the public wants you out.”

“I know all that, Gabriel,” you hissed, turning to face him entirely. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Gabriel looked you up and down, some emotion on his face you couldn’t read. You and Gabriel had always been friends, enjoying each other’s company on the rare days when he wasn’t on a mission or to himself. The intensity of his stare was unlike anything he’d ever shown you before.

“Leave him.” You blinked, shaking your head a little in disbelief.

“What?” In one step, Gabriel closed the gap between you and him, taking your lips in a wildly passionate kiss, grabbing the sides of your head so you couldn’t pull away. That didn’t stop you from trying though. You beat your fists on his chest, screamed in his mouth, kicked at his feet. Gabriel growled and bit your lip, drawing blood for your disobedience. All of his weight on you, he forced you down to the table, his entire body pressed against yours.

“I can release all this shit and fake plenty more if I have to,” Gabriel murmured against your lips, eyes not leaving yours. “I can ruin him. I can put him away for life. If not on this, then on something else.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Gabriel took your wrists in his hands, pinning them to the table and forcing your legs apart to stand in-between them. The taste of copper was strong on your lips, blood bubbling from the bite wound. The bulge in his pants was prominent the moment he brushed it against you, and you felt like you could cry. Your commanding officer was threatening you.

“Or,” he said, bringing his face closer to yours. You turned away, and he wasn’t deterred, licking from the bottom of your jaw to your ear. “You can behave, you can walk out of here and break up with him, and he won’t have to know any better.”

“Okay, fine!” you cried, cringing away from his warm breath. Anything to get you out of here. “I’ll go break up with him now!”

“Correction,” Gabriel whispered in your ear, grinding his cock against you. “You’re going to break up with him when I’m done with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oogity Boogity Boo @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Another Bodyguard scene because the original request wasn't kinky enough! Woooo


	21. Bodyguard #2 (Soldier 76)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 23: Bodyguard #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 76 is tired of acting more like a servant than a bodyguard.
> 
> Female s/o. So ritual/sacrifice didn't work out, have this instead. I am the master of your fate now.
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, Threats

Working for you was the worst mistake of 76's life. Sure, he needed a cover of some sort after the fall of Overwatch, somewhere that he wouldn't stand out among the crowd. Normal civilian life wasn't fit for a super soldier, but neither was a life of fame. So, he settled for something in between.

Bodyguards were an indistinct bunch, nobody really ever looked at them when the presence of a bodyguard almost certainly guaranteed the presence of someone more interesting to look at. Not a bad occupation, but working for you...  
  
God, did he hate it.  
  
There wasn't a moment in the day that wasn't rife with demands. Complaining about anything that came your way, only excited for something until it invariably disappointed your incredibly high standards. Then you just ordered it out of your sight. He was starting to feel less like a bodyguard and more like a slave.  
  
Even now, when you could afford to lose his "ever-valuable" protection to send him to get a bottle of vitamin water from the cooler. Located halfway across the set. He only accepted because it was temporary respite from your voice, and he couldn't get enough of that anymore. He was steeling himself to it all again, ready to go back in and begrudgingly accept whatever else you had to say to him, until your voice pierced through the metal door before he even walked up the first step.  
  
"JACK!" Alarmed, he dropped the bottle and lept the stairs in an instant, throwing the trailer door open to find you...sitting there.  
  
"Oh, you were right there," you deadpanned, still working on your nail. "Where's my water?"  
  
"Why'd you scream?" he asked, searching the trailer for any sort of intruder. He was starting to feel more like a fool with every second.  
  
"I was getting impatient," you said, swiveling around to face your massive vanity mirror. He looked at you with some conflict of emotion, so many hitting his mind at first he wasn't sure which one he would feel by the end of it. He looked as his reflection next to yours, his battle-hardened face run ragged at the hands of a snobbish young celebrity. Every single one of his commanding officers throughout the years would be ashamed of him.  
  
"So?" you demanded, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Where's my water?"  
  
Somewhere, deep in his brain, a little piece of him snapped. It wasn't much, but it was enough to cause a series of decisions in his head, starting with walking across the trailer and picking you up from beneath the shoulders.   
  
"HEY!" you screamed, unable to even ask what the fuck he thought he was doing before your back hit the floor, palm of his hand digging into your cheek and pinning you in place. "You're fucking up my make-up! My fucking hair!"   
  
"So sorry, _princess_ ," he growled, making short work of the formal dress you were wearing for your next scene. The realization dawned that maybe this wasn't a joke, and you opened your mouth to scream.  
  
"Don't." His hand on your cheek moved to your mouth and held it shut. Every one of his features flamed with When had he ever looked so angry? "You want to know why they chose me to guard such an important celebrity?"  
  
You didn't respond, but he must have seen the confusion in your eyes, because he raised his fist and slammed it into the floor beside your head. The resulting vibration through the metal rattled your teeth, and your blood went cold. You were almost afraid to look over and assess the damage, but you did, and _oh god._  What if that had been your head? This dude was fucking superhuman.   
  
"That's right," he said, pulling his hand off of your trembling lips and hiking your dress all the way up your legs. "You can stay right there." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com knows what you want and that's exotic chocolates. Also porn.
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Doctor/Patient (?)


	22. Doctor/Patient (Lucio)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 24: Doctor/Patient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucio realizes while taking care of his bedridden friend that he doesn’t ever want to let them go.
> 
> Ambiguous s/o
> 
> Warnings for: Noncon, Hypnosis (?)

It was getting difficult to think. The soothing tune blaring from the Sound Amplifier was drowning out your thoughts.

Your body was unable to resist the lull of the waves. Lucio had left it cranked to 10, the sound echoing through the room and laying your every nerve to rest. You couldn't even fight against your hyper-relaxed state. Lucio, wearing earplugs to protect himself from a similar fate, was looking over your unmoving body with excited eyes. He lifted your shirt, your exposed stomach perfectly healed from where your wound had once been.

"You've gotta be feeling great," he praised, pulling your shirt back down, then changing his mind and pulling it up. Your senses were dulled, muscles relaxed beneath his fingers yet barely affected by them at all. Even as he pushed you down into the bed, it felt like he was barely touching you.

"Take me home," you mumbled, one of the only coherent thoughts you could get out in your daze. Lucio shook his head and laid his body over yours, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, his lips brushing against your skin with every word. "You're not feeling well."

You were, and you knew that your wounds were no longer an issue, but he would never admit it. He's just kept his amplifier there, cranked to an even 8 or 9 so you would rest, and bend to your every will while you were bedridden. It was nice at first, but it was starting to get annoying and, lately, worrying. You were starting to feel like your instincts were more attuned than you initially thought.

"I can take care of myself," you tried to argue, fingers twitched in an effort to protest. Lucio pulled away from your neck and pressed his lips to yours instead, taking your still mouth as consent rather than paralysis. He pulled away and looked into your eyes, his own sparkling with an eager desire.

"I like having you around here," he told you, palm rubbing up and down your side flirtatiously. "Man, I don't want to let you go yet."

You tried to pull away from him, but there was nowhere you could go. The bed was beneath you, and you lacked the strength needed to push past Lucio, much less get up. You were trapped to his advances, unable to cooperate when he tried to pull your shirt over your head, settling for leaving it just above your chest. Your pants he was less merciful with, nearly ripping them off your legs in his haste to see all of you.

"Please," you breathed, the weight of your chest starting to bear pressure on your lungs. Your body was exposed to him, eyes flicked over your legs with a hunger that strongly contrasted his usual smile. He was enjoying every second of what he was seeing, no doubt. He crawled over you in a quick, fluid motion.

"If you're gonna beg for me, then I guess I shouldn't keep you waiting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com can rock your world.
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Master/Servant


	23. Master/Servant (Maximilien)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 25: Master/Servant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maximilien is gracious enough to allow you the option of paying off your debt with your time instead of your money.
> 
> Afab s/o, neutral language but a highly feminizing outfit.
> 
> Warnings for: Non/Dubcon, Slave dynamics.

You had no illusions about what your work for Maximilien would entail the second he showed you your uniform. Short on the skirt, exposed on the legs, and flattering everywhere else. You were embarrassed about how the uniform pushed your breasts up, the heels being more fashionable than functional. From the minute you looked at yourself in the mirror, he came up behind you and put his hands on your hips.

“You look wonderful.”

That was the top of a very deep rabbithole. You never thought you’d so casually welcome his harassment, but today, he had pinned you to the wall with hardly a second thought and you simply allowed it. His fingers made short work of pushing past your skirt, pulling your panties to the side and sliding his fingers over your clit.

“I’ve been admiring your behavior lately,” he praised, staring into your eyes. You didn’t give much of a reaction anymore, but when prompted you gave him a little moan. He snickered. “I’m considering letting you leave soon.”

You’d long since stopped believing that lie. “How soon is soon?”

He tilted his head and hummed in thought. All the while, chill metal slid in your hole, his slender fingers penetrating you with ease. Maximilien was very skilled with his fingers; to make up for a lack of other things. He certainly could have afforded the upgrades necessary, but for whatever private reasons, he didn’t. You certainly wouldn’t complain.

“Soon,” he reassured. His other hand caressed your inner thigh, parting your legs just a bit further. “Who knows, who’s keeping track? You just owe me so much…”

Dismayed, you turned your face away. He pouted at your reluctance, but he supposed there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t like he could command you on how to feel, only on what to do and when to do it.

“I’d hope you’ve grown to like working for me, since you’ve been doing it all this time.” His earnest concern is almost laughable. He really wants you to like him, and he thinks this is the answer. Ignoring the warmth in your lower half, the excellent skill with which he worked your body, you turned to face him.

“I can’t wait until I can go home, honestly.” His mouth parted in honest disbelief, but he caught himself quickly. Inside of you, the fingers began to quickly heat up as his body temperature skyrocketed.

“Is that a fact?” he hissed, and his fingers began to vibrate. You let your head fall back against the wall and moaned, practically falling on his buzzing fingers. He curled them inside of you, rubbing against your inner walls and driving you wild. Your self-control barely kept you in check, clinging to the wall with your nails and legs wobbling. “Isn’t this the best job you’ve ever had?”

“Nope!” you grunted between your moans. Exasperated, he pressed the thumb of his other hand to your clit, quickly ramping you up to climax. Your body hit orgasm so suddenly it nearly hurt, shock pouring off of your lips as you came on his fingers. He pulled them out before you were even done, leaving you feeling empty and cold, falling to your knees.

“Cumming without permission,” he lamented, looking at the wetness that coated his fingers. “I’ll have to add some time on for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com Kinktober is almost over and that's the spookiest thing of it all.
> 
> Tomorrow's Kink: Elevator Scene.


End file.
